Jack and the Chair
by Slayne22
Summary: Jack just wants to find a place to hide for a while. Unfortunately... the chair is taken. Just a short, silly fic that wouldn't leave me until I wrote it. Give it a try! Wow, thanks everyone for the reviews!


**JACK AND THE CHAIR**

By Slayne22 (Jennghis Kahn in the SG world)

Rated- PG-13, maybe some language

Pairing- Well... you can look at this in many different ways. It can be a no-romo genfic that only emphasizes friendship. It can be a Sam/Jack fic. It can be a minor ship fic for Sam and each of the SG-1 boys. It can be a Jack/Chair fic. It's all in what you want to see.

Genre- Humor

Spoilers- None really. Maybe for Watergate and Descent. Although it takes place during the current season, so the ranks are in line with that.

Disclaimer- Don't own nor profit from Stargate.

A/N- Just a silly idea I had that kept growing, the way stupid things sometimes do, and I wanted to write it out cause I soooo love that team dynamic. And I like Sam just fine. So do the boys. No matter how much you want it to be otherwise.

* * *

I have to admit, it isn't all bad being The Man. Not as bad as I thought it would be. Sure, there were some difficult times at first, but I got through them. And I didn't even have to kiss any ass to do it either. Sweet.

Still, there are plenty of things I have to deal with that I'd... well... rather not. There's so much extra pompous ceremony to the military. Stuff I couldn't care less about but now have to make decisions on. It's good that I'm surrounded by people who understand me. People who know me and how I think. I'm not quite used to my promotion yet, not quite comfortable in my own new shoes.

Case in point, as I walk down this hallway on the way to Carter's lab, I'm still a bit surprised at how everyone looks at me and reacts. Thank god we're inside and they can just do a quick 'snap to attention' while I breeze by. If I had to return salute to every one of them, I'd go postal.

I kind of like how they all step aside though and let me pass. I can really open up my stride and walk with purpose. A man with a mission. Get the hell outta my way.

I bring up the rolled tube of paper I hold in one hand and tap it against my other hand as if it's some top secret battle plan, and I try to look determined. It's actually a fishing magazine, but they don't need to know that.

_The Man is coming through, boys. Important stuff to do. _

Important stuff like relaxing for a while after a particularly hectic morning.

There's only one place to go when you don't want to be bothered for an hour or so. One place to relax and stretch out and read a fishing magazine for a while. Carter's lab.

Specifically, my destination is one particular chair in Carter's lab. I don't know where she got it or why it's there, but I don't question good fortune when it rains down upon me. It's just past her worktable, take a little turn to the right and it sits just on the other side of her desk. The side for 'visitors'... and for frazzled generals who just want to get away. It's a chair right out of the 70's with it's lime green faux leather and it's miraculous foam padding that never loses it's spring and is probably so flammable that it'd take this whole complex out if I slide my butt across it too vigorously and create some heat. But that chair is so sweet.

I can sink down into its comfort and pull one of Carter's mechanical-thingies-on-wheels over to prop my feet on while I read or sleep. If I slouch down just right, her big table blocks me from the doorway and I can hide in comfort. There's even a little bookcase next to it with a little space cleared off of it to set your coffee on.

I discovered the space years ago. I used to like watching Carter work and found numerous excuses to hang around her lab. She's not much of a conversationalist though, when she's working. She's quiet and pre-occupied and completely absorbed by her work. The only sounds she makes are the soft mutterings to herself as she pokes and prods and picks at her latest project. She doesn't mind if you want to hang around, but she expects you to keep quiet and let her work. Perfect for the stressed-out general who just wants to read a few articles about the newest spinners and crank baits while his blood pressure drops back to normal.

I suppose I could just close my office door and take a break at my desk. But then, you know... people could actually find me. And talk to me. Definitely NOT sweet.

Besides, I kind of like hanging out in Carter's lab. Not that I'd admit it to anyone, but I like how intense she is when she's picking the locks of an alien mystery. I like how you can practically see the gears turning in her mind as her fingers explore strange technology. Her gaze finds all the important parts and you can see her brain linking them all together, figuring them out. It's a fluid and amazing thing. Even better is being there when she finally breaks through and unlocks all the secrets. That's when you hear the soft sounds of triumph exhaled from her lips and then those blue eyes look up to find you in the room. The eyes fill with excitement and the lips curve into a wide smile that says 'I did it'.

Definitely sweet.

There's a possibility that Teal'c will be there with her. He's come a long way from the early days when he would follow me around with that big, bad Jaffa expression on his face, just waiting for some evil Goa'uld to jump out of a storage closet and try to kill me. He's relaxed a bit, although it can be hard to tell. He hung around Daniel for a while. Everyone spends some time hanging around Daniel. That's just how it is. He grows on you. When Daniel asks you how you've been, he actually wants to know. I waver between finding that admirable and freaky. Still, I say that with the utmost respect. Daniel is one of the best friends I've ever had. The past couple years though, T's been gravitating towards Carter.

He still spends time with Daniel, helping with translations, answering the seemingly endless questions about Jaffa society and Goa'uld society, but more and more often, I'm finding him with Sam. He seems to like her lab for the same reasons I do. It offers a quiet oasis within the chaos. He usually sits at her table on a stool, reading something I've never heard of before (obviously recommended by Daniel) or working on one of her computers.

I glance at my watch as I turn the final corner into the last corridor. Hmmm. Thirteen hundred exactly. T should be down in the gym by now. I should have the chair all to myself. I resist the urge to chuckle a bit wildly.

I can hear the soft and steady whirring and humming, the hallmark of Carter's lab, before I get to the doorway. She doesn't say anything as I walk in. She's bent over a small silver contraption that looks suspiciously like a carburetor from a '79 Monte Carlo and doesn't notice me. I don't bother her, I just head towards the chair as usual.

Around the table, a spring in my step for the first time today, I begin to unroll my magazine and... and...

Daniel is sitting in the chair.

My chair.

I stop and stare at him. "Daniel?"

He looks up at me. "Oh. Hi, Jack."

He has a book in his hands and a mammoth-sized cup of coffee on the little bookcase. He's slouched down in the chair, MY chair, perfectly. Just the way you have to be to be hidden from the doorway. I frown. This means he has knowledge of the chair. This means he's been here before... many times. I stare at him intensely. He's back into his book again already and ignores me. Stupid civilian.

I tap the rolled magazine against my thigh.

He doesn't notice. I give a mental snort. _Scientists! No wonder he gets shot all the time._

"Daniel!" It comes out louder than I expected it to.

He glances up again, glasses low on the bridge of his nose, blue eyes looking out at me over the rims. "I'm sorry Jack, did you want something?"

_Yes! Get the hell out of my chair!_

"Don't you have some work to get done?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

He does that pouty, confused thing and holds up the book. "Ummm... yeah. I'm stuck on a few translations and thought I'd read up on it a bit." He hesitates for a moment and then raises his own brow. "Is that OK with you?"

Bitch. "Don't you have your own lab?"

He shrugs. "Yes." He goes back to reading.

I mutter the 'bitch' again under my breath and I see his mouth turn up slightly. I glare at the top of his head. His eyes roll up to peer at me, even as his head is bent down over the book, and he fights to keep the mocking grin from forming.

Oh, that bastard! He knows damn well that I want that chair. He's also the one person who won't jump to my command if I order him out of it. Damn!

I put a nonchalant expression on my face and shrug before moving to the other side of the desk and taking Carter's chair. She's so into her project, she won't be needing it anytime soon anyway. I lay the magazine on the desk and stare down at the cover.

It's hard to concentrate. This chair is hard and squeaky and I know I can be seen from the door. I duck down a bit to see if that helps. Nope. I can still see the upper half of the doorway just fine, and if I can see it, then anyone standing there can see me.

I do more muttering under my breath.

"Problem, Jack?" His voice is sappily innocent and annoying. Bastard.

I look at him. He has that irritating smirk on his face. The one he uses on Sam all the time. "You're in my chair." I state.

He puts on a look of mock surprise and looks down at the chair, leaning from side to side so he can look down at the legs and at the back. "Really? I don't see your name anywhere."

Oh, the sarcasm drips from his tongue. He's really been hanging around me too much. What have I created?

"Well, it's my chair." I insist lamely. "Get out of it."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"N-"

We're interrupted as Carter's voice suddenly interjects. "Oh, will you both just shut up!"

We both look up at her. Daniel with his stupid-cute 'I'm so sorry' look and me with my 'what did you just say?' look. She clears her throat nervously and bites her lip a bit as she looks at me.

"Ummm... I mean, will you please just shut up... sir?"

"That's better." I nod.

"If you can't be quiet, both of you can leave." She's serious, and Daniel and I both nod in agreement. Then we glare at each other.

"Out!" I hiss quietly.

"I was here first!" He hisses back.

I fall back, studying him, turning over strategies in my mind. I will not be beaten by a scientist, for cryin' out loud. My eyes fall on his coffee cup. Every man has his weaknesses.

"Fine." My tone is kind of snotty, but I don't care. "I'll just wait until you have to hit the head."

He snorts in a mocking fashion. "Good luck. I went just before I got here."

"Really? How much coffee can you hold? That cup is more like a gallon."

He glances at the super-sized travel mug sitting beside him and hesitates.

_Oh yes! How much have you already drunk, Danny Boy? _

He shrugs again. "I'm used to it."

"Right. OK, then." I open my magazine and take a deep breath, finding an article on the feeding habits of large-mouth bass.

He stares at me for a moment and then settles into the chair and starts reading again. I stare at the page in silence a while, listening to the sounds around me. The clicking sounds as Carter dismantles the carburetor thing, the scratching sound of her pencil as she takes notes, even the soft brush of paper against paper as Daniel turns pages in his book. It's reassuring in a way and almost enough to make me content with just being in the room with two of my favorite people. Almost.

Not quite.

_If he'd just let me have the damn chair…_

I tap my fingernails against the desktop. When I'm sure it's just starting to irritate Daniel but hasn't yet penetrated Carter's tech-induced haze, I look up with a thoughtful expression.

"How're the fish?"

I watch as Daniel's brows draw together and he frowns into his book. He turns his head slowly and looks at me as if I've lost my mind. _Just give me the damn chair, Daniel!_

He clears his throat. "Umm, what?"

"Your fish. How are they?"

"Fine." He draws the word out hesitantly, eyeing me suspiciously.

"Good, good. I've been thinking of getting some fish. I've always liked the sound of the running water from the filters. It's very comforting."

He blinks at me.

I nod. "Lots of water. Constantly running. Running all the time. Running water."

Now I get 'The Look'. He looks down at his book again, but I hear words under his breath in a song-song voice. "It won't work, Jack."

"Oh, but it will, Daniel." I reply in the same lilting sing-song.

It's quiet for a time as Sam shoots us an annoyed glance. It won't be long before she kicks us both out. I have to work faster. My quality chair-time is quickly wasting away.

"Remember when we went to that Russian stargate base where the gate was stuck open to the water world?"

Daniel looks up, but not at me. He looks straight ahead, his lips pressed tightly together. I smile a bit.

"Remember how you and Carter went with Dr. Markov in that little sub into the water?"

"It's not going to work, Jack." He still won't look at me, but he knows what I'm doing.

"All that water pressure on the sub. Remember how it cracked that front bubble? All that pressure. All that water..."

"Jack..."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Daniel. Is that causing you discomfort?"

"No, not at all." His voice is tight.

"Good, good." I look back down at my magazine. A few minutes later I look up again, taking a deep breath and opening my mouth in preparation for speech. Daniel slams his book shut and stares sullenly at the wall across the lab from him.

"Carter, you remember when we were stuck in that flooded compartment on that Goa'uld mothership?"

She actually stops work and glances at me with one arched blond brow. "No sir. I don't remember that time we nearly drowned at all."

I do a double-take and frown. Sarcasm? From Carter? She's been hanging around Daniel too much.

"Yeah, sure, you remember. All that water kept pouring into the room, getting higher and higher, filling up the compartment." I risk a glance at Daniel, who seems to be fidgeting a bit in the chair. "Gallons and gallons until it was filled to the ceiling."

"Yes, our impending death is never far from my mind, sir, but how nice of you to bring it up."

Oop. Maybe a little too far with that one, but a man has to take some risks in life to get what he wants. Especially when facing off against annoying scientist-type geeks who won't give up the good chair.

I rest my chin in one hand and look up at the ceiling. "Supposed to rain this afternoon. It's too bad we don't have windows..."

"Oh, for God's sake!" Daniel almost spits it out as he snatches his coffee cup from the bookcase, grabs his book and shoots me a dark glare. I muster up my best surprised face as he stands and runs/stalks from the room.

And victory is mine!

"Well done, sir." Carter is giving me a lopsided smile and shaking her head.

"Thank you!" I refuse to be ashamed of myself or to otherwise sully this triumphant moment. I'm hastening myself around the desk to take my rightful place on the throne when a voice from behind freezes me.

"O'Neill!"

I wince inwardly at the Jaffa's tone. I can just TELL that he's been looking specifically for me. I hesitate, actually considering acting as if I didn't hear him, when he repeats himself from right behind me.

"O'Neill. Sgt. Siler has requested your presence in the control room. He says he has numerous maintenance request forms that you need to sign before he may start his work."

Damn it! So close...

I finally turn to look at him. "I signed those ages ago. I'll get with him later."

Teal'c raises that one brow. Sometimes I really hate that.

"Sgt. Siler insists that it must be done immediately."

Yeah? We'll see how gung-ho Sgt. Siler is when he and that big wrench of his are working on the plumbing down in the septic area.

"You'd better go, sir." Carter looks concerned. _Whose side are you on, Colonel?_

I glance longingly towards the chair, hesitating for a long moment, until the intercom crackles and I hear Walter's voice fill the lab and the hallway outside.

_"General O'Neill, please report to the control room. General O'Neill to the control room, please."_

I'm already swearing under my breath as I head out the door. I turn at the last second to glance back... and I see T settling his big frame into the chair. My chair. His eyes meet mine for a brief moment... and I watch the corner of his mouth tug upwards. He nods respectfully at me, but oh... there's SUCH a smirk in there somewhere.

It sucks being The Man.

END


End file.
